Watch Me Burn
by Maddie Rose
Summary: Dahlia Parry always admired her father, but never aspired to follow in his footsteps as a Jaeger pilot. But when tragedy strikes, Dahlia finds herself beginning to struggle - not only with her responsibilities as Australia's only female pilot, but also with her tumultuous feelings for the headstrong Chuck Hansen. Chuck/OC.


**Chapter One: The Ranger's Daughter**

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**A/N: So umm..hi guys. I've had this idea for a while, but I was waiting to write it. This is a Chuck/OC, but there's going to be a lot of building before any romance comes into it. It focuses on the Sydney Shatterdome mainly, in particular my character Dahlia Parry and her father, as well as Brendan Barker. I don't own anything you recognise!**

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There is not one person alive who could forget the horror and devastation of K-Day. I had been young at the time, only eight years old. Some would say that eight is too young to fully understand the severity of something like K-Day. But when I think back to August 11, 2013 – the day the world changed forever – I think even at such an age I understood the gravity of the situation.

I lived a normal life in Sydney, Australia. I had a stable family – Dad was an aerospace engineer officer for the Royal Air Force, and Mum was a high school Geography teacher. I had a sister Jacinta, older than me by four years. We were happy and healthy, the stereotype of a middle-class suburban family. There was nothing special about us, not even on K-Day…not yet.

They called it a Kaiju, nicknamed Trespasser. I didn't know what the word meant at the time. I didn't know anything but the fact that the military had to drop a nuclear bomb on San Francisco to kill the thing. So many lives lost, so much damage done. But when it was over…well. We all thought it was some sort of freak of nature. An anomaly. Never did we think we would be witnessing the beginning of something far bigger.

In November of the same year, the second attack hit Manila in the Philippines. Again came the widespread devastation, the loss of lives. People were becoming concerned. The belief that San Francisco was a freak incident was shattered. Again, the military were forced to end the Kaiju, at the cost of the city of Manila. We took a deep breath of relief…but there was doubt now, doubt about whether these attacks would keep on coming. And they did.

It was after the third attack on Cabo San Lucas that the Pan Pacific Defense Corps was established. We need a way to fight back against whatever these creatures were, and after discovering that they were not from our world but instead from a dimensional breach in the Pacific Ocean, it became apparent that the independent militaries of each country were not enough.

I was nine years old when the fourth attack came, and it hit close to home. It hit Sydney.

Being part of the Royal Air Force definitely had its positives, in some ways. As the Kaiju, nicknamed Scissure, tore our city apart, Dad came for us. It was me he got first, running me out of my primary school and bundling me into the waiting helicopter. By the time we reached the high school Mum taught at and Jacinta attended, it was too late.

I remember nothing but the silence on the flight to the Royal Air Force base. Dad didn't cry. He didn't yell. He just sat there, staring at nothing. To me, that was more frightening than anything else. I was old enough to comprehend what had happened to Mum and Jacinta. The helicopter had just landed at the base when the mushroom cloud flared up in the distance. Scissure was dead, but so was part of us.

I had always gravitated towards my mother. Dad worked a lot, so it was Mum and Jacinta I looked to. They were the ones I was close with. Now, at only nine years old, I had none of that. I only had a father who was distant, a father who seemed to forget that one of his children had survived. I don't remember how long we stayed at the military base, but then something bigger still occurred: the Jaeger Program began.

In late November 2014, construction began on the first of the Jaegers, a Mark I that would later be called _Brawler Yukon_. My father began travelling a lot after that. He gained a job within the Jaeger Program, he had a use. You might ask exactly who I was raised by. I guess the answer is that I was raised by the belief that my father was doing something extraordinary, that one day we would have the power to avenge Mum and Jacinta.

Dad and I travelled a lot. He went to conferences, he looked over designs for the manufacture of Jaegers, machine big enough and advanced enough to take on this foreign enemy. They fascinated me from the beginning. As a small child peering over my father's work, I saw what appeared to be something from a _Transformers_ movie. It excited me. It gave me hope.

When the Sydney Shatterdome opened on May 25, 2017, Dad's work took us home again. He had established many contacts within the Jaeger Program, but he was needed in Sydney, as the PPDC wanted his help there: they were building the first Australian Jaeger. I was twelve years old by then, and used to the mobile lifestyle my Dad and I had had for the past three or so years. Returning to Sydney felt like going home, but after that amount of time, home was practically unfamiliar.

I didn't think Dad's work could bring any more surprises. The Australian Mark III Jaeger, _Vulcan Specter_, became his life. I was proud of him, proud of all that he had achieved. Little did I realise that there was much more to come yet, both for Dad and myself.

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_August 7, 2018_

"Hey, little D!" Phil Conroy's voice booms through my room and the light is blinding what it's flicked on. I groan and bury my face in my pillow. My body clock is telling me that it's far too early to be awake. "Dahlia Parry, get that ass moving."

"What's the time?" I ask hoarsely. I blink a few times to try and adjust to the fluorescent light shining right into my eyes. Phil's obviously a more enthusiastic morning person than me, because he's over in an instant, ripping the blankets out of my hands and jerking the pillow out from under my head. I roll off the bed, sprawling on the floor. Gee thanks, Phil. I'm definitely awake now.

"It's 4:23am," Phil declares, folding his arms over his chest. He's twenty-three, almost ten years older than me, and has a booming voice that completely defies his bean-pole stature. Of course, Phil's been working at the Sydney Shatterdome from the beginning and has an easygoing and boisterous nature, so it makes total sense that we get along. "4:24 now. Right, 4:24am and your dad and Barker are about to be deployed."

"What?!" I'm on my feet in an instant, scrambling to find a warm jumper. Phil knew that I wouldn't want to miss this for the world. I've only been looking forward to this moment since Dad and his co-pilot Brendan Barker were chosen in April. I yank on a Sydney Swans hoodie and pull on some socks and shoes.

When the _Vulcan Specter_ was commissioned, all kinds of people were tested to become its pilots. All over Sydney and the rest of Australia, the military personnel came pouring in. Scientists, too. Everyone wanted the privilege of piloting Australia's first Jaeger. Brendan Barker was the first chosen, and it was no surprise to anyone. Originally from Darwin, he was a stocky man in his late twenties with practically all the military service awards under the sun. He'd been in Sydney during the first attack, valiantly working to evacuate civilians. It took a bit longer to find someone who was Drift compatible with Barker.

It was astonishing to everyone except Sydney Shatterdome's head, Herc Hansen, when my dad was chosen as the second pilot. He and Barker were Drift compatible – not that Barker was pleased about it. Dad wasn't a fighter, he was just an aerospace engineer. But what Barker didn't get at the time, and something he'd only begrudgingly come to understand, was that we needed people like Dad. We needed the brains as well as the brawn.

"Where are they being deployed?" I ask as I trot down the corridor after Phil. This moment is so exciting and yet nerve-wracking. Dad's wanted this since the Kaiju War began, he's been a major part since the beginning…but him in actual combat is something completely different. The fear of being an orphan at nearly fourteen strikes me hard.

"Christchurch, New Zealand." Phil walks into LOCCENT Mission Control and after a brief pause, I follow him. Due to the nature of Dad's work, I must be the only teenager who's actually been given permission to going into the command centre. Of course, I've been sternly warned that I'm not allowed to touch _anything._

Hercules Hansen, former Royal Air Force pilot and the head of the Sydney Shatterdome, sits in a chair closely monitoring _Vulcan Specter_'s progress. He's an associate of Dad's, as they've known each other because they worked in the RAF together. I've only known Herc well for a little while, but I know that he's a decent guy. He has a son a little older than me, although I've never met him.

"Morning, Dahlia." Herc offers me a tired smile. "Sure you wouldn't rather be in bed?"

"No way," I reply enthusiastically, my eyes fixated on the screen where Dad and Barker's vitals are steady. "I want to see what's going to happen."

Phil slides into his chair and starts up the Drift process. I've always been fascinated by it – two minds joined as one, working in sync. Of course, I'm only thirteen so I've never been allowed to try it. But considering Barker was so contemptuous towards Dad until they Drifted, it seems like sharing memories means you gain a sort of respect for other people.

"Initiating neural handshake," Phil announces, shooting me a glance over his shoulder. I move over and twist my hands in nervous anticipation. The only visual we have of Barker and Dad is the small dot on the screen indicating their current location – and the _kaiju_'s. I fidget and decide to take a seat after all, leaning back in the chair.

My eyelids prickle. Well, Dad and Barker aren't near Christchurch yet. I suppose I can close my eyes for a few minutes. Phil will probably shake me awake when everything starts. Just for a few minutes…

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"Mini-Parry!" Phil's voice cuts through my sleep like a knife as he shakes me awake. I immediately remember the situation at hand and jolt up out of the chair, glancing around as though hoping to see Dad and Barker in the room. Phil leans back in his chair, somewhat amused. "You're missing the action, Dahlia. Your dad and Barker are having a real go at the _kaiju_, but then I realised you were asleep."

"What?!" I demand, staring at the screen where the _Vulcan Specter_ dot remains strong. "How much has happened? How long was I out?"

"Relax." It's Herc that speaks this time. "They've only just engaged the _kaiju._"

Feeling somewhat chastised, I fall silent and listen to the sound of Barker and Dad's voices filtering through their feed into LOCCENT. Barker is very enthusiastic, taking well to beating on the Category III and making crude comments every now and again. I listen for Dad's voice, but he only says something in response to Barker talking to him. He's quiet and determined. I can't help but smile.

"Let's get the saws onto this bloody thing!" Barker yells, and there's the sound of something buzzing like it's powering up. I grin, because I remember Dad proudly showing me some of the weapons on _Vulcan Specter_, and those saws are something pretty spectacular. The _kaiju_'s signal starts blinking, and I clench my hands into ready fists._ Come on, Dad. You can do it._

Phil is leaning forwards now, eyes intently focused on the screen as Dad and Barker saw into the creature's thick hide. I catch the codename "Orca" on the screen, and can't help but think it fits. The _kaiju_ is one of the smaller ones I've seen, but it's the first that Dad's engaged, so with the excitement of it all comes the sick feeling in my gut that I don't want to acknowledge: _what if they fail?_

Orca screams as blue blood spurts out from its wounds. _Vulcan Specter_ takes a step back and swings again. The buzzing saw catches in the torn skin of the creature's neck, and it seems like the sort of violence you'd see in a video game when its throat is slit wide open, head lolling backwards. The _kaiju_'s signature fades out and Phil slams his palm down on the desk.

"They did it!"

"A damn good job," Herc agrees, glancing at me with a weary smile. Despite my lack of sleep and the nervousness that tied knots in my stomach, I was so proud of my dad that I grinned so hard it hurt. Herc was right, they had done a damn good job. But nagging at the back of my mind was the thought that it was only the first time they had defeated a _kaiju_ – and it certainly wouldn't be the last.


End file.
